By the Book
by Berry's Ambitions
Summary: [One-shot] In which Stabber tries to educate Hansel in the ways of First-Aid. Who knew safety training could be so dangerous? My half of a story trade with hunterstrain-13. [Mentions of Letch/Stump and Chameleon/Missy]


_**By the Book**_

_**By Berry's Ambitions**_

**A/N: Katy, I'm so sorry for the super-long wait! ^^; But I finally managed to get it done! This is really quite silly - borderline crack - with a somewhat abrupt ending, but I hope you like it regardless!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Hills Have Eyes_.**

* * *

"No, Hansel. You can't perform CPR on yourself."

The tone Stabber used was a one of forced patience. Had anyone else asked him such a thing, he wouldn't have thought twice about slapping them upside the head. But this _was_ Hansel - his student - so Stabber was just going to have to deal unusual inquiries such as this.

_Why did Missy have to be at home today?_ he thought exasperatedly, rubbing his forehead. _She was supposed to help me with this..._

Chameleon's human mate knew just as much about First-Aid as he did, being an EMT and all. It was for this reason alone that Stabber had sought out her assistance, and of course that son of hers _had_ to catch the flu the very day that Stabber had arranged Hansel's medical lesson.

_No matter. I'm perfectly capable of doing this on my own. Hansel isn't incompetent, if a little clueless..._

"People click in real life?" Hansel inquired, tilting his head to the side. "I make one."

_Correction. Very much clueless._

"No, Hansel."

"Scared of ripping off band-aids. Not want hurt."

"The worst thing that'll happen is a bit of hair loss."

"Not... Cham. Cham have no hair."

"That's because he has a condition."

A long pause. "We do mouth-to-mouth on man... man..."

"We're not going to be using our mannequins. I don't think that would be very, uh... sanitary." There was no way in hell he was going to put his lips near one of those. Not after witnessing what Hades liked to do with them in his spare time. The very memory made bile rise to Stabber's throat, so he quickly moved on to another topic. "So, as I was saying. Today I'm gonna teach ya how to perform cardio-pulmonary resuscitation."

Hansel's stare was vacant.

"CPR."

"Ohhh." The younger mutant nodded. "I understand now."

"Because the mannequins are too much of an, uh... health hazard... Letch volunteered to help us out."

"I did _not_ volunteer!" came the angry voice from outside the door.

Stabber couldn't help but smirk at that. "Alright. Missy volun-_told_ him to give us a hand."

"You damn right she did," Letch growled as he stomped inside. "Back before Martinez started bangin' Cham, she woulda made_ him_ do it!"

"True," Stabber agreed, "but since Chameleon's helpin' Missy out with Clyde back in Santa Fe, you're stuck with us." He frowned, peering over Letch's shoulder. "Do I hear...?"

It turns out he did. "Yo!" In strolled none other than Stump Locke, who looked more pleased to be there than what a regular human being would deem appropriate. Letch outright _glowered_ at his mate, but Stump wasn't phased in the slightest. "So?" he asked, clapping his hands together. "Did I miss the incestuous smooching?"

Stabber furrowed his brow. "You're actually _alright_ with this?"

"Unfortunately," Letch grumbled, shooting Stump a glare reminiscent of his father.

Stump, however, remained cheerfully oblivious as ever. "There was nothing good on TV today," he shrugged. "And besides, how can I miss my man here - " He wrapped an arm around Letch's shoulder, prompting a growl from the older man. " - locking lips with his baby bro?"

"I already told you," Letch snarled, violently shrugging his arm off, "it ain't like that!" He looked at Stabber, wide-eyed. "Tell 'im it ain't like that!"

Stabber scowled at his clan-mate and the human, deeply offended. "CPR is a serious procedure used to save the life of another person durin' an emergency where the person could possibly _die_ if ya don't try it! By askin' me such a stupid-ass question, you're makin' CPR look like a joke, which it ain't. 'Sides, the other person is knocked out and unable to kiss you back. So no, it does _not_ count as kissin'!"

"HA!" Letch burst out, jabbing a finger in Stump's face. "I _told_ ya!"

But Stump didn't appear convinced. "Wait wait wait," he pointed out, raising his hands with palms facing outwards. "You said that if the other person is knocked out, they can't kiss you back... and yet CPR _isn't_ a kiss in the first place?"

Letch snorted. "Well I guess that means last night you performed CPR on my - "

"Okay then!" Stabber interrupted, longing for some alcohol to wash away the graphic mental images that were now assaulting his brain. (The deep shade of pink that now decorated Stump's cheeks didn't help the matter.) "Since we're all here, why don't we get started?"

Stump raised his hand. "I just have a question."

"Yes?" Stabber asked in a low, dangerous voice. Knowing that tone all-too-well, Hansel eyed him nervously.

"What's the first step? Like, how do you know when to give a person CPR?"

Letch rolled his eyes, exasperated. "What the fuck do you think? You tap the victim on the shoulder and ask if they're okay?"

"Can ya watch what you say in front of Hansel?" Stabber snapped. "Teachin' him is tough enough it is without you makin' him confused!" He realized how harsh his comment sounded and quickly back-peddaled. "No offense, Hansel."

"None taken," the younger mutant responded. "It is true."

"Besides," Stabber continued, "that was a legitimate question for Stump to ask. When the victim ain't breathin', that's when you know they need CPR."

Letch wrinkled his nose skeptically. "Are you sure it's safe for Hansel to be practicin' this on me?"

_Not entirely._ "Would I ever intentionally put you in danger?" Stabber gave a smile that he intended to be sincere. Instead, the other men shrank back at the sight of it.

"That depends," Stump said slowly. "Have we done something to piss you off lately?"

"How 'bout on a regular basis?" Stabber deadpanned. "Letch, lie on the floor."

Letch gawked at him. "The floor?" he whined. "Why it gotta be the floor?"

"Do you_ see_ a bed in here?" Stabber shot back. "The sooner you do it, the sooner this'll be over with!"_ For all of us,_ he added to himself.

Cursing the lot of them under his breath, Letch complied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well?" he said pointedly. "Get on with it, then."

Stabber turned back to Hansel. "The first thing you do is check the scene for immediate danger," he instructed. "Make sure you ain't puttin' yourself in harm's way by performing CPR on to someone who's unconscious."

Hansel scratched his head. "He is not - "

"For the sake of this exercise, pretend Letch is unconscious," Stabber explained, beginning to massage his temples in an effort to keep his cool.

"I wish I _was_ unconscious."

"That wish will be soon be granted if ya don't shut the hell up," Stabber informed Letch through gritted teeth. Taking a deep breath, he returned to the lesson. "Ask yourself, is there a fire around? Is the person lyin' in the middle of the road? Do what you gotta do if that means keepin' yourself and your patient safe."

"Won't it hurt the patient if you're dragging them all over the place?" Stump pointed out.

"That's what coats and blankets are for."

"And if you don't have any?"

Stabber closed his eyes in exasperation. "Movin' on. Next, Hansel, you assess your victim's consciousness."

Hansel knelt down next to his 'unconscious' brother, gently tapping on his shoulder. When Letch did not respond, he leaned closer. "You okay?" he asked - _very_ loudly - into Letch's ear.

"OW!" Letch yelped, bolting upright and clutching his ear. He scowled at Hansel. "I was, 'til you decided to make me half-deaf!"

Stump guffawed. "Shut up!" Letch yelled, picking up one of Hansel's teddy bears and beaning his mate in the face with it. Which would have been more effective, of course, had said teddy not been filled with stuffing.

"If the victim does not respond - " Stabber had to raise his voice to be heard over the chaos, which had escalated to the point of Letch and Stump throwing various stuffed animals at each other (much to Hansel's dismay, naturally). " - then you won't have to perform CPR. _Both of y'all, knock it off!"_

Stabber seldom yelled at other members of the clan, but when he did, everyone knew that shit was going down. Thus, Letch and Stump quieted immediately, although that didn't stop the couple from making obscene gestures at each other.

"Assumin' the victim don't respond," Stabber went on, blatantly ignoring them, "you try to get help if you can."

Hansel nodded, cradling a tattered bunny against his chest.

"After you're finished checkin' the victim's pulse, check their breathin'." Stabber snapped his fingers meaningfully at Letch, who begrudgingly lay back down once more. "If the victim is coughin' or breathin' normally, do not perform CPR, or you might stop their heart by mistake."

"Assuming that you're not trying to_ intentionally_ kill them," Stump chimed in, "in which case, it would be a good idea to do that, right Stabber?"

"You're _this_ close to bein' kicked outta the room, boy. Now... time for chest compressions. Hansel, you place the heel of one hand on the victim's breastbone, exactly between the..." Stabber hesitated to use the word in front of the likes of Letch and Stump. "...nipples."

A moment of silence.

"Dude." Now it was Stump's turn to stare at him. "We're not_ that_ immature. You can say 'nipples' in front of us. It's not like we care."

"Oh." Stabber cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Noted. Now, Hansel, place your second hand on top of your first one, palm-down."

Hansel obeyed.

"Position your body directly over your hands, so that your arms are straight and somewhat rigid."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Letch wondered aloud. He wrinkled his nose at Hansel. "You had garlic bread for lunch, didn't ya? I swear, if this CPR don't kill me, your breath will."

"Great." Stabber smirked. "Because it's time for chest compressions."

"Chest com_OWWWWWW! Hansel, what the fuck that hurts!"_

"That _looks_ like it hurts!" Stump commented, wide-eyed.

Which reminded Stabber... "Stump?"

"Mm-hm?"

"You have your iPod, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Yes!" Letch growled from the floor. "I'd_ love_ to know why you need my boyfriend's _fucking iPod!"_

"Because some agencies recommend doin' compressions to the chorus of 'Stayin' Alive' by the Bee Gees!" Stabber explained, getting a kick out of the entire thing. He started laughing. "Me? I just think it's ironic."

If looks could kill, the one Letch gave Stabber would've required _him_ to get CPR.

* * *

"I hurt all over," Letch moaned, all but hugging his ice pack.

It was fifteen minutes later. Stabber was scribbling away in a notebook, Hansel was playing with one of his toy trains, and Stump was nodding his head to whatever he was listening to on his iPod.

"Hello?" Letch glowered at them. "Does anybody care?"

"Not particularly," Stabber answered, not even sparing his clan-mate a glance.

"I could be bleedin' internally."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"I could be schemin' a way to get revenge."

"How? By giving me more details on your sex life with Stump?"

"Well in _that_ case..."

Stabber threw his pencil at him.

**~The End~**


End file.
